


'Cause I Was Just Thirteen (when I got my first taste of danger)

by good_ho_mens



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: ? ig, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Families of Choice, Gaang (Avatar) as Family, Gen, Growth, Post-Canon, Post-War, Sokka (Avatar)-centric, Sokka is Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, Southern Water Tribe, Uhhhhhhhh, ig?? bruh i cant tag, sokka needs a hug, that happens, that should be a tag Fight Me, thats not a tag??? Fight Me, um, whats the tag for people who discriminate against non-benders lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24549628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/good_ho_mens/pseuds/good_ho_mens
Summary: “We’re just kids.”“Are we?” Sokka asks, and the silence stretches between them(The answer is yes, but it’s easier to pretend they grew up a long time ago than admit they’re just broken children trying to fix a broken world)
Relationships: Sokka & The Gaang (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)
Comments: 51
Kudos: 576





	'Cause I Was Just Thirteen (when I got my first taste of danger)

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Let's write cute fluff about the Gaang!  
> My brain: Let's not
> 
> Anyway I hope you enjoy ksjdvb

When Sokka was twelve years old he carved a promise to be a warrior into a block of ice.

It took him an hour to chop out the crude symbols with the tip of his boomerang, and when he was done he was sweating, and his arm ached. War was in his blood, it was his main drive, his life.

He never understood the people who didn’t want to fight.

(Later in his life, he would meet a boy with a scarred face and a girl with dangerous eyes, and he’d know that in a different life, that could’ve been him and his sister)

(The desire to fight would all but fizzle out at that realization) 

There are few people left in the world who weren’t raised for war.

Bumi is one of them, and so is Aang. Sokka can see it in the way they speak, the way they move. The way they don’t shy away from fire or loud adventures that draw attention. He can see it in their smiles, wide and fearless and kind.

Bumi and Aang weren’t born into a world of destruction and stifling fear.

(Maybe that’s why Aang looks so much more hurt by the charred forests and waves of injured troops finally coming home)

(Sokka hurts too, but he’s tired)

(He’s so tired)

When the war ends, Sokka breathes for the first time in his life.

It’s like a wave of exhaustion hits him all at once, and if Suki hadn’t been supporting him and his broken leg, he would have crashed to the ground.

“We won,” Katara whispers.

No one cheers. No one smiles. 

Slowly, Zuko stands, Katara’s hand hovers next to his hip and the second scar his family gave him. He holds a hand out to Aang, his face stone.

Aang doesn’t shake his hand or nod back grimly. He launches himself at Zuko and laughs with so much relief in his voice it reminds Sokka just how young he is.

(Aang wasn’t raised for war, but he was shoved into the middle with no warning, and expected to fix it)

Zuko shudders and stumbles, and Katara catches him and Aang before they all fall.

Sokka watches her, his baby sister, and realizes she’s been catching people her entire life. His eyes go blurry, and he staggers out of Suki’s grip to grab her shoulders and crush her against his chest.

“You made it,” he says into her hair. 

Katara starts to cry.

Sokka isn’t sure how long they stand there after Toph burrows her way between them all and Suki wraps her arms as far as they can reach over the group, but it’s long enough for his leg to scream painfully in protest, and the weight on his chest to return.

Because it isn’t over yet.

Sokka looks down at his friends- his  _ family _ , and realizes with a shaking breath that the war might be over, but the fight is far from done.

***

Getting used to a post-war world is more difficult than Sokka could have imagined.

For Toph, it’s not very hard. She was raised sheltered, and even despite her attempts to shun that lifestyle, she was never exposed to the loss of war or the scar it left. 

Sokka is proud of Aang and Katara, who despite everything, held onto their wonder and inner light. 

(the nights he spent pouring over strategies and plotting routes, burying evidence of scorch marks from around their campsite, the days he spent cracking jokes and letting them take out their frustrations on him through light hearted teasing paid off, and he’s so, so proud)

Suki was always an optimist, and Sokka is grateful for her every day, especially at night when he feels the guilt and fear grip his heart and threaten to undo him.

(She holds him and they whisper uncertainties and reassurances to each other until the sun rises)

Sometimes, though, Sokka just wants someone who understands what it’s like to live with what feels like the weight of his people on his shoulders, who knows what it means to grow up training every day for a fight he never asked for.

He finds himself sitting with Zuko more and more often after the war is over.

“Do you think they can ever really forget?” Zuko asks, watching a group of kids fly kites in the courtyard a ways away from where they sit.

“Them?” Sokka shrugs. “Yeah, they’ll forget. They’re just kids.”

Zuko’s eyebrows lower into something sad. “ _ We’re _ just kids.” 

“Are we?” Sokka asks, and the silence stretches between them

(The answer is yes, but it’s easier to pretend they grew up a long time ago than admit they’re just broken children trying to fix a broken world)

***

Hakoda is by no means old, even though his eyes crinkles at the corners and his hair is lined with wisps of white from years of stress, but war takes its toll on everyone, and the warrior has seen too many battles.

He walks with a permanent limp now, and when he asks Sokka to succeed him as chief of the Southern Water Tribe, he favors his right leg.

Sokka is eighteen, the same age his father was when he took charge, technically a full fledged adult now. But the sag in Sokka’s shoulders and the numbness in his eyes didn’t appear on his father until Kya died. His father grew up in a war just like he did, but he didn’t fight in it until Sokka was twelve.

There’s guilt in Hakoda’s eyes, so Sokka doesn’t stop himself from grinning and accepting happily, erasing any sign of the aching exhaustion off his face.

“Is this really what you want?” Katara asks him later, staring into the fire that crackles quietly between them.

Sokka wants to ask her if she’s ever asked Aang that, or Zuko. He wants to tell her he doesn’t have a choice, none of them ever had a choice. 

Instead, he smiles. “Well, yeah! I was getting tired of Zuko being the only royal one.”

He can see it in Katara’s face, that she doesn’t believe him.

(But the war is over, the war is over so she lets him lie, the war is over and the worry lines on her forehead are slowly going away)

(Sokka knows now, more than ever, that the war isn’t really over)

(He lets her believe it is)

***

Sokka is at another meeting, another day long discussion of how to achieve peace when the sight of fire and red emblems still scares children, when all that conceals Ozai’s fallen statue in Omashu is a large, green canopy, when Sokka’s people are still scavenging for any food they can find, when Aang is still the only Air Nomad left.

Sokka forces himself to sit straight instead of prop his head on his hand and roll his eyes at Aang as the Earth Nation ambassador goes on and on.

Usually, Toph would be here to cut in with some crude one liner to break up the tension, and Katara would take notes for him when his mind wandered. Usually Suki would squeeze his hand under the table to keep him present.

But this is a closed meeting, as stupid as that is, and only recognised officials are allowed inside.

Zuko sits next to him, hands folded on the table, the epitome of royalty. Even Aang, who’d gotten such a sugar rush from his fourteenth birthday the day before that he tried to teach Momo to swordfight, sits stoically and nods along to the speech that’s been going on for an hour.

“-focusing our rebuilding efforts at this time on Ba Sing Se would be our smartest move,” the ambassador finally finishes.

Sokka raises an eyebrow. “Rebuilding what part?”

“Excuse me?” 

“In your entire drawl you didn’t mention the outer rings of Ba Sing Se once. Do you really think we should spend more time and money on a rich inner ring that thrives off the other citizens' poverty?”

Aang looks surprised, like he’s trying to walk back through the meeting to figure out why he missed that. Zuko nods. “I spent time in the lower ring of Ba Sing Se personally, ambassador. I agree that you should be putting your main focus on the people there.”

If the ambassador were a firebender, he’d be blowing smoke out of his ears. “All due respect Fire Lord, but you’d really take the side of a chief of the most desolate land in the world over mine? A  _ non-bender _ no less?”

Sokka’s wolf tail flips over his head as a rush of hot hair whips past him, from the Fire Lord and Avatar respectively. Aang is standing, his staff in his hand, and Zuko’s hands are clenched, his eyes flashing a warning.

Sokka holds up a hand, and Aang sits down, Zuko relaxes slightly.

(Because he might not be able to do the things they can, he might not have their power, but he does have their respect)

“You forget, ambassador,” Sokka says coolly, “that your king himself is a non-bender, and a personal friend.”

The underlying threat is understood loud and clear, and the ambassador sits down.

The discussion goes on, and Sokka has the taste of bile in his throat for the rest of the meeting.

It isn’t the first time he’s been disliked, like not being able to bend somehow makes him unfit. He sees the looks people give him when he walks alongside Aang on the street instead of behind him, when he tousles the great Toph Beifong’s hair or spars with the Fire Lord, when he teases his sister in public.

It isn’t the first time he’s been disliked for being a non-bender, but it’s the first time someone has said it to his face, in front of his allies. It’s the first time he’s heard the disdain voiced, and the ambassadors words cut sharp like a wip.

(The bile returns later, when he realizes his mind changed the title ‘family’ to ‘ally’)

***

The first thing Sokka does as the official Chief of the South is make plans for a memorial to commemorate the men lost in the fight, and the waterbenders lost in Ozai’s attempts to make sure that his grandfather's plan worked, that the Avatar wouldn’t survive.

(Sokka and Zuko find the place where the waterbenders were held a few weeks later, an entire underground fortress of cages)

(Every cage is full except one, there are no survivors)

(Sokka stares at Hama’s empty cage and forgives her)

It’s Katara’s idea to make the old Fire Nation warship part of the memorial, and with Toph’s help, the two of them build a statue that intertwines with the tarnished red flags and snow beaten metal. It means remembrance and hope. 

Sokka’s tears freeze on his flushed cheeks when it’s finished.

“You know,” he tells Zuko the first time the Fire Lord sees it, “that ship isn’t all bad memories. It’s the reason we met.”

Zuko scoffs. “I thought that was a bad memory?”

“Funny how things can grow, isn’t it?”

Zuko has never looked more thankful than in that moment, and that night, sleepily sipping wine while Toph snores in his lap with her feet propped against Suki, watching Aang and Katara dance around the fire, he tells him so.

Sokka smiles, and looks around at his family. It seems like a lifetime ago when all he had was gran gran and Katara.

(Funny, how things can grow)

***

Rebuilding the South is… not easy.

Even with the men home from war, the South’s trade systems and outreach to the other nations had been completely demolished in the war.

The North, despite all its talk about rebuilding its sister tribe, does very little in the way of help.

The Northerners who moved with Sokka’s grandfather are angry, and a group of them plan to sail back to the North to convince them to bring aid. 

Sokka lets them, and the day after they leave a blizzard hits the South. 

Only four of the seven return.

(After the funerals, Sokka stands on the wall of ice surrounding their village and begs the moon for an explanation until his throat is sore and his voice is hoarse and raspy)

(She never answers)

***

Aang shows up one day, bouncing on his toes and grinning so brightly it hurts Sokka’s eyes, and tells him they’re taking a vacation.

Sokka has things to do, responsibilities and work that he can’t just blow (ha) off, and he just about says so when Appa roars, and Sokka remembers a time when he didn’t have to be chief or have the weight of his entire tribe on his shoulders.

(Somehow, the weight of the world felt lighter than this)

(Maybe because he grew up carrying it, or maybe because he never did, he only ever carried his friends)

Hakoda agrees easily to take over the Chief’s duties for the time being, and Sokka sees relief in his eyes when Sokka picks Aang up in a hug, and the two run off to the flying bison waiting for them.

Sokka sits in the saddle and stares at the back of Aang’s head, and tries to remember what it felt like when this was his life.

“Aang? Do you ever… miss when it was just us?”

The way Aang’s shoulders slump tells Sokka everything, and the younger boy nods. “Sometimes.”

(Sokka climbs up next to Aang and wraps his arms around his shoulders, and takes the reins when Aang turns to bury himself in Sokka’s shirt, because being Chief is hard, but being the Avatar is infinitely harder)

They meet at the Western Air Temple, because that was the first time they were all together.

Usually, there would be workers milling about, restoring all they can, but Aang got them to take the day off.

Katara hugs them both when they arrive. She cups Sokka’s face with her hands and squints at him like she knows he’s hiding something, and it takes all Sokka has not to crumble. 

“Move aside!” Toph shouts, not giving Katara a chance to listen before she slides the stone under her out of the way. Toph punches Sokka’s arm hard, enough to make him wince, and then she drags both him and Aang into a bone crushing hug that they barely get out of alive.

Zuko laughs at them both, which is a welcome sound. Sokka only ever heard him laugh a few times during the war, and even fewer when they were all still navigating the new world. He steps forward and bows to Sokka, “Chief.”

Sokka doubles his dramatics when he bows back, “Fire Lord.”

Zuko snorts and stands. He pulls Aang into a side hug, and grips Sokka’s forearm. “It’s been too long.”

“The South Pole isn’t exactly a short walk away from the Fire Nation.”

“No,” Zuko smiles. “I guess I’ll have to plan more diplomatic meetings.”

Sokka groans.

Suki is a lot gentler in her hello, kissing Aang’s cheek and squeezing his shoulder, then wrapping herself around Sokka where she’ll stay for the better part of their meetup.

“Look at us,” she says, and she’s beautiful. “We’ve all changed so much.”

(Sokka hates how as the others smile, his stomach churns)

***

The anniversary of the end of the Hundred Year War is filled with celebrations, the steps of Zuko’s palace are transformed into a festival, a symbol of the Fire Nation opening its gates with kindness for the first time in a century.

Important people from every nation attend, and Zuko works with the Earth Kingdom to pay travel costs for as many citizens as possible, especially children.

Sokka has never seen so much food.

His stomach growls and his mouth waters, and Katara laughs at him when he’s led off to be formally introduced instead of being allowed to eat until he bursts.

Katara falls into step next to him, and Sokka takes a few seconds to take in how amazing she looks.

Her travels with Aang aren’t rushed or secret anymore, her eyes are brighter than he ever remembers seeing them, and she wears the Air Nomad cuffs Aang gave to her on her last birthday, a green headband holds her hair in place, and Sokka recognizes it as Toph’s. She kept the light-weight red shoes from their time hiding in the Fire Nation, and her blue dress has been altered to handle the hot climate most of the world shares right now.

Sokka thinks she’s the only one who could pull off wearing an outfit that includes all four nations, and he thinks she looks happy.

“I love you, you know,” He tells her, because he hasn’t seen her in months, because he missed her.

(He won’t admit it, but Sokka is still getting used to not having his sister at his side. His whole life, she’s been there. There’s something missing in him when she’s not)

Katara looks surprised for a moment, and then she smiles, and slips under Sokka’s arm, leaning against his side. “I love you too.”

Eventually, Sokka gets to eat, and relax, even if it’s only for a moment.

He watches Aang and Toph laugh at something Momo is doing as he devours a leg of meat he can’t name, and the sound of people enjoying themselves fills his ears.

Sokka had spent so much time staring at plans and treaties, organizing trades, building houses in the South, teaching people to fish and wash fur, that he hadn’t stopped once to look around him.

He’d spent so much time trying to heal the world, he never realized it was working.

(He loses his appetite then, but he still dances with Toph until his feet hurt, and he still tries to play Airball with Aang again, and he still smiles, and he still laughs)

(Because maybe he spent so much time trying to heal the world, that he hadn’t realized he was healing  _ himself _ too)

***

People have tried to assassinate Zuko before. Sokka gets a letter from Toph (from Iroh, really, but they all pretend he’s not the one she dictates to) explaining a failed attempt in great detail at least once a month.

Toph finds it hilarious, but that’s because she’s there to take down the guy before they even make it into the palace. 

Sokka finds it terrifying, because he’s halfway across the world with no way of helping.

It’s one of those sunny days that makes Sokka glad to be in the Fire Nation, and he’s sparring with Zuko, and for once, he might be winning.

Zuko’s dual swords clash against his singular one, and the two grunt as they both try to gain the upper hand. Sokka smirks and sweeps his foot out, tripping Zuko and knocking him onto his back. “Ha! I win!”

He reaches out to help Zuko up, fully intent on bragging for the rest of the day.

“Zuko move!” Toph shouts suddenly, and it scares Sokka so bad his instincts kick in, and he drags Zuko back to the ground, rolling away as a spike of ice longer than his wingspan flies through the air right where his head used to be.

Zuko breathes heavily under him, and Sokka slowly lifts himself off the ground, staying crouched as he scans the area.

Toph is on her feet, Katara at her side with a hand on her shoulder, and Aang is rushing forward, pulling Zuko to stand.

“Just so we’re clear, that wasn’t you, Katara, right?” Sokka asks, pulling his boomerang off his hip stealthily. 

“What? No!”

“Didn’t think so,” Sokka says under his breath, and whips around to throw his boomerang towards Zuko and Aang.

Aang yelps and ducks behind Zuko, and there’s the sound of metal hitting something soft, and a loud ‘oof’. 

Sokka barely has time to move before a wave of water forms a tiny tsunami in his direction. “Zuko, you need to get inside!”

People had tried to assassinate Zuko before, and it wasn’t out of the ordinary for the assassin to be from a different nation, though most of them were firebenders, loyal to Ozai.

Sokka realizes too late that this one being a waterbender is no coincidence.

His legs are swept out from under him and he hits the ground with a grunt. He’d slipped on ice like an amatuer. Sokka pushes himself up, reaching for his sword, and is met face to face with the assassin. 

His eyes widen. “Nia?”

She snarls at him and yanks him into a choke hold, Sokka watches as his friends circle her.

“Let him go,” Zuko says, and it's only because Sokka knows him that he hears the tremor in his voice. “This is about me and you.”

“You think I’m here for the _ Fire Lord _ ?” Nia spits, tightening her grip on Sokka’s neck. “I couldn’t care less about you or your people.”

And oh. Sokka should have known. He should have known because he knows Nia, he knows what she’s been through, what she’s lost. “This is about your sister.”

Nia’s breath quickens in his ear and she snarls. “You sent her back to the North, she  _ died _ on that ship!”

Sokka should tell her it’s not his fault, but he doesn’t, because it is. 

(He learned a long time ago that when you’re a leader, everything is your fault)

“You’re  _ weak _ ,” Nia continues, and Sokka can see Toph stiffen in the corner of his eye.

Katara’s glare is sharp. “Leave him alone. What happened to your sister was an accident!”

“It never should have happened!” Nia shouts, and her voice softens when he talks to Sokka’s sister. “If you were Chief, it wouldn’t have happened.”

For a moment, no one does anything. Everyone is still, frozen in a stunned and confused silence. Finally, Aang says, “What does  _ that _ mean?”

“Our leader should be a bender! You and your father have made us weak! I saw it when I moved to the South!” Nia yanks on Sokka’s head, cutting off his airway with her grip. “With you gone, a bender will be in charge, as it should be.”

Sokka gasps on air, and closes his eyes.

That’s it. That’s always been it. Sokka can’t bend, which makes him less, which makes him weak.

History will remember the Avatar, and his three masters. History won’t remember Sokka.

(History has never remembered non-benders before)

(The world may have changed, but it hasn’t changed that much)

Maybe it would be better, with Katara as chief. She’s cool headed and smart, she pays attention in meetings, she’s respectful and kind and responsible.

Ever since they were kids, Katara has been everything Sokka is not.

Sokka coughs as a rush of air fills his lungs, and he grabs at the closest thing to him, which happens to be Aang’s hand, and holds tight. Zuko is holding his shoulders, searching his eyes for something Sokka isn’t sure is there. Katara has an arm around his back, and Toph is squating next to Zuko.

“Nia?”

No one answers, and Sokka understands. They caught her. She’ll be shipped back to the South for a trial. A trial Sokka will have to rule over.

(He’ll have to banish her, he knows. He knows and he hates it because she’s a child)

(She’s a child who was raised for war, and when it was won, she found another one to fight)

(Sokka knows, he knows and he understands)

His shoulders start to shake, the mask he’d been wearing for so long starts to shatter, and the hands holding him tighten, Toph says, “You’re not weak.”

“I would hate to be a chief,” Katara assures him.

But none of them say anything about Nia, and none of them try to stop his tears.

(Because in a world where children fight the battles, who really wins?)

***

Sokka is accompanied by his friends when he returns home, which sounds a lot better than saying he’s bringing back the Fire Lord, the Avatar, and the two most powerful water and earthbenders in the world.

He’s welcomed back with open arms.

The South has grown, refugees of the Water Tribe are returning home, the warriors are all home, the children are growing up on their own terms.

Hakoda tells him they found a place for Nia in the North, a school for kids who’d been traumatized by the war or the resulting events after it ended, and Sokka is so relieved that he spends the rest of the day letting Aang drag him penguin sledding and teaching Toph and Suki to spear fish.

They have a feast, and it’s the first time Sokka laughs in a long time. Aang doesn’t let go of his arm the entire time, and Zuko promises another spar.

Sokka isn’t perfect, and he isn’t all powerful. But when he looks at the shining, beautiful,  _ alive _ faces of his family and his people, he knows he’s not weak, and he knows eventually, they’ll be okay.

When Sokka was twelve years old he carved a promise to be a warrior into a block of ice. 

Now Sokka is nineteen, and he carves his name into a tiny corner of the icy memorial, right above Katara’s, to the left of Zuko’s, to the right of Toph’s crude fist print, and just above Aang’s.

Sokka was raised for war. 

He held his sobbing sister as his father explained that the Fire Nation killed his mother. He watched the warriors ships sail away without him. He spent years teaching himself to fight so he could protect his family.

He was the newly redeemed Fire Prince’s first friend and the first (honorary) male Kyoshi Warrior. He fell in love with the Moon Spirit and crafted a sword from meteorite. He taught the first metalbender it’s okay to cry. He taught the Avatar how to deal with nightmares.

Sokka was raised for war. He was raised in fear and hate. He was raised to fight.

As the years go by, there are more people in the world who aren’t raised for war.

Sokka can see it in the way they speak, the way they move. The way they don’t shy away from fire or loud adventures that draw attention. He can see it in their smiles, wide and fearless and kind, and with those new faces and new hope, Sokka learns to forget.

(Of course he does, he was just a kid, and he learns to stop pretending he grew up a long time ago and admit he was just a broken child trying to fix a broken world)

(They all were)


End file.
